Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Bolivia and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Half Japanese to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Porter Ricks. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Music Machine record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eve St. Jones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Fire Engines,
Lou Christie,
June of 44,
Laurel Aitken,
Radiopuhelimet,
Mad Mike,
Minor Threat,
the Fania All-Stars,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Q65,
Sexual Harrassment,
Groovy Waters,
The Offenders,
Todd Terry,
Gang Gang Dance,
Heaven 17,
Guru Guru,
Lakeside,
Suburban Knight,
Gang Green,
Camberwell Now,
Joe Finger,
Franke,
The Raincoats,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Blues Magoos,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Smog,
Susan Cadogan,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Wake,
Dead Boys,
Warsaw,
Alison Limerick,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Moleskins,
Delta 5,
Electric Prunes,
Henry Cow,
Lou Reed,
The Star Department,
Sällskapet,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Flesh Eaters,
Ludus,
Whodini,
Half Japanese,
Simply Red,
The Beau Brummels,
Alice Coltrane,
Prince Buster,
Sound Behaviour,
Pussy Galore,
Royal Trux,
The Trojans,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Dorothy Ashby,
Oneida,
Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.